For five-and-twenty minutes so swift we sent them shot, Our action it was very short, but it was very hot. Whilst they sung out for quarter, our captain he did say, ‘Avast, my boys, with honour, we’ve shown them British play. ‘The action being over, and the pris’ners safe on board, We’ll keep safe below, my boys, and toss a can of grog. And when we come to Portsmouth, with a girl on each knee, We’ll spend our money cheerfully, and then again to sea.’ It is now for to finish this my warlike song, I am a saucy foremast Jack, to the _Arrow_ do belong. In praise of Captain Portlock and his officers we’ll sing, And not forgetting the _Arrow’s_ crew, and long live George our King! _COPENHAGEN._ Of Nelson and the north, Sing the day, When, their haughty powers to vex, He engaged the Danish decks; And with twenty floating wrecks Crowned the fray. All bright, in April’s sun, Shone the day, When a British fleet came down Through the islands of the Crown, And by Copenhagen town Took their stay. In arms the Danish shore Proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold, determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. For Denmark here had drawn All her might: From her battleships so vast She had hewn away the mast, And at anchor, to the last Bade them fight. Another noble fleet Of their line Rode out; but these were nought To the batteries which they brought Like Leviathans afloat In the brine. It was ten of Thursday morn By the chime, As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death, And the boldest held his breath For a time-- Ere a first and fatal round Shook the flood. Every Dane looked out that day, Like the red wolt on his prey; And he swore his flag to sway O’er our blood. Not such a mind possessed England’s tar; ’Twas the love of noble game Set his oaken heart on flame-- For to him ’twas all the same, Sport and war. All hands and eyes on watch As they keep; By their motion light as wings, By each step that haughty springs, You might know them for the kings Of the deep. ’Twas the _Edgar_ first that smote Denmark’s line; As her flag the foremost soared, Murray stamped his foot on board, And an hundred cannons roared At the sign. Three cheers of all the fleet Sung Huzza! Then from centre, rear, and van, Every captain, every man, With a lion’s heart began To the fray. Oh, dark grew soon the heavens-- For each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like a hurricane eclipse Of the sun.